


Reminisce

by nerdofsorts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: After infinity war, But May didn't, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Kid Peter Parker, One Shot, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter survived the snap, Poor Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Sad Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 17:58:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15824043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdofsorts/pseuds/nerdofsorts
Summary: What if Peter survived the snap, but Aunt May didn't?orPeter gets a hold of Tony's BARF tech and uses it to revisit happy memories





	Reminisce

Pete couldn’t help but feel immensely intimidated – here he was, sitting at the round table surrounded by the heroes who had stopped the very first attack on New York.

Natasha Romanoff.

Bruce Banner.

Thor.

Steve Rogers.

Clint Barton…

 

Tony Stark.

And then there was Peter Parker. The guy from Queens who was undeniably and _incredibly_ in over his head.

The nerd who was most comfortable behind a literal mask, now open faced and with the living legends he’d grown up watching on TV. He was honoured to be there, but these guys were on a another level.

But people needed him, and not just those in New York. The whole universe needed the Avengers, relying on them to reverse what Thanos had done while it clutched at its losses. Peter could only hope he was the guy for the task – he had to be.

“Carol said that the Seer told that one of us had seen the clue to taking Thanos down, even if we didn’t know it at the time. These watches are team versions of BARF – a little more robust and secure that the original. Completely made of vibranium, courtesy of Shuri.” Tony explained as he handed out the devices. Peter thanked him quietly as he accepted his own, gently turning it over to examine it. It was smooth, circular and _very_ expensive looking.

Two black bands crossed over underneath, and Pete slipped them over his hand, intending to wear it like a watch. Before he could move it to his wrist, the bands fastened around his hand on their own accord, fastening the tech on the back of his hand.

 _Cool,_ he thought to himself, twisting his hand around to check out his new accessory.

_A definite upgrade from the Rolex I never had._

When he turned his hand over to look at the face again, he was taken aback to see something loading on the screen. He whipped his head up to look at Tony in panic.

“That’s good Pete,” Tony reassured. “Everyone else, put yours on too. They will need a few moments to calibrate.” He instructed. The other five followed suit, Thor letting out a small chuckle as he held his hand up to admire it. “Not bad, Stark.” He remarked.

“Thank you, Thor.”

A silence fell over the group. It wasn’t awkward or tense, but nor was it comfortable. It reflected the weight that was on each and every person’s shoulders, and the insurmountable loss that was slowly consuming them. Peter sure as hell didn’t want to think about what he had lost because of the snap. Because he had been _so_ close to taking the gauntlet, but not close enough. He was not the only one in the room who had missed their chance, so it wasn’t like he was alone.

In fact, he was probably surrounded by some of the loneliest people in the world. There was no one left out there for them besides the people in this room.

Peter opened his mouth before he could stop himself to fill in the quiet. “Did the Seer say anything about what memories we should be checking? I’ve got the least out of all of everyone here, but 18 years is still a lot.”

“We believe that she implied it happened during a moment of conflict or sleuthing,” Banner chimed in, clasping his hands together and leaning forward on the table. Natasha let out a groan.

“Are you kidding me? That’s my entire life summarised in two words. How am I supposed to look through over thirty years of memory?” she asked.

Thor scoffed in response. “Try having over 1500 years to sort through. I ought to speak to this Seer myself,” he grumbled.

“Fair point,” Nat conceded.

“No Thor, we need you here. It’s important that we stick together,” Steve insisted.

The bickering started to pick up, and Peter shrunk back into his seat, feeling guilting for sparking it. He hadn’t known three years ago when he wanted to join the team just how much arguing there was, which thinking back was pretty dumb of him – considering they were in a middle of a civil war when Tony enlisted Peter.

“ENOUGH!” Hulk roared, silencing the room immediately. He had only half emerged, but he quickly morphed back into Banner.

“Thank you Hulk,” he said haughtily. “Now, stop complaining like little bitches because you’ve got some homework. You don’t even have to read anything!” He ranted, glowering at everyone as if he were the a high school teacher at his class. Peter hadn’t finished his final years, but he almost started laughing as he imagined Hulk trying to teach a class.

“Right, everyone go and get to work now. The due date for this mission was two years ago,” Tony muttered, walking out of the room. Peter was the next to stand, heading for his room to be alone while he relived his memories.

* * *

Everyone was exhausted as they reassembled in the kitchen for food. It had become an unspoken rule that everyone had to come out and eat at least twice a day, after Tony was almost hospitalised from not looking after himself.

Peter knew as he walked into the kitchen that he wasn’t the only one who had had to revisit some awful memories that should be left alone.

Thor especially looked worse for wear. Pete wondered what had happened to the god during those 1500 years, but quickly gave up the contemplation as he slid onto a bar stool, hunching his tired body over the benchtop.

He wasn’t the only one with red eyes, but that didn’t stop him trying to hide the fact that he’d been crying. No, scratch that, he’d been sobbing. Hysterical.

Seeing Uncle Ben die again was even worse than the first time, because he had to watch himself, this newly bitten kid, try and stop the man from bleeding out on the pavement. Of course, just like the first time, the blood had uncontrollably pooled out from between his fingers, soaking his uncle’s plaid shirt in a deep crimson.

No one said a word as Clint handed out mugs of coffee. This time, Peter didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. They just sat there together, spread out across the kitchen and trying to seek comfort in the presence of real people. It didn’t matter that they were still stuck in their own minds.

Peter jumped at the grating sound of a chair scraping against the tiles. He twisted around to see Steve standing up from the table. “We should get back to it,” he murmured, leaving without another word. Gradually the others peeled off too, until it was just Tony and Peter. The billionaire set down his mug to leave too when Peter leapt off the stool and joined him.

“Hey, I was wondering if maybe I could head back to my place and do this?” he asked, looking earnestly at Tony. They were the same height now, he didn’t have to look upwards anymore.

The man looked reluctant. “Are you sure that’s a good idea kid?” he asked cautiously.

“I think so,” Pete nodded, putting on a façade of confidence. He knew what Tony was referencing, but there was something he needed to do.

“Alright then. Take one of the cars, but come straight back if you need to, okay?” Tony made him promise. Peter gave him a small smile of thanks before spinning around to head for the garage.

Despite the Stark range of cars having the programming to run completely independently of the ‘driver’, Peter still preferred to drive it manually, revelling in the mundaneness of it. He didn’t really know why he preferred to do it himself. Maybe it was the feeling of control, or the feeling of something that a _normal_ person did.

Of course, the first time he drove one of the cars, he had had a fair bit of help from FRIDAY. Tony had been to distracted to actually ask Peter if he had a license, and Peter hadn’t had to guts to correct him. So FRIDAY taught him how to do it, taking over occasionally, when he left it too late to brake or nearly had a brush up with a concrete pillar.

Now it was like second nature to him as he cruised down the highway, significantly over the speed limit. If there was one thing that had come out of the snap, it was that traffic had more than halved on the roads.

 _Not that he wouldn’t trade an easy commute to have everything back the way it was before,_ he thought bitterly as he passed another wreckage on the side of the road. Over a year on and they still hadn’t cleaned up all of the accidents that had happened, simply because people had vanished from behind the steering wheel. Crumpled skeletons of cars were now a common sight on the side of the road – people had bigger problems to deal with.

By the time he arrived to the familiar apartment block in Queens, a cool dusk had settled over the city. Even now, just sitting outside the apartment, Pete’s hands trembled as he turned off the engine.

With a deep breath he heaved himself out of the car, walking across the sidewalk and through the main doors to the elevator without giving himself a chance to think. He hit the number for his floor and listened to the machine lift him slowly up through the building.

 _You want to be here, you want to do this,_ he reminded himself as the familiar ding signalled his arrival. As he stepped out he naturally reached into the back pocket of his pants for the key. He’d kept it on him all this time, a force of habit mostly. But also to keep a piece of home close.

Right before he slid the key in, he froze. What was beyond that door terrified him, and already a sick feeling was building in his stomach. Every fibre was screaming to run away back to the Avengers, away from the place that reminded him of the truth.

“You want to be here, you want to do this.” He murmured firmly to himself, pushing the key in and unlocking the apartment.

The door swung open slowly, revealing a home that totally different to what Peter remembered. Everything inside was still the same – right down to the pile of mail on the side table. But the apartment lacked the warmth, the life and the love that used to fill it.

It was a cold place now. Literally.

Pete shivered as he stepped inside, both from the temperature and the eerie feeling settling over him. He flicked on the lights, and his eyes fell straight to the spot on the floor near the counter.

To his relief, the shattered mug and spilled tea had been cleaned up by Tony’s men. He remembered seeing it for the first time, arriving home praying that May was okay. That she had survived the snap. But that broken mug had confirmed his worst fear, and the image of it would stain his mind forever.

That day he had collapsed beside the cold tea, shaking uncontrollably and unable to catch his breath as tears cascaded down his cheeks. Tony had picked him up and taken him out of the apartment straight away, leaving his men behind to gather up Peter’s things. He’d been moved straight into the Avenger’s compound, and he hadn’t been back to the apartment since. Tony had been kind enough to fund its upkeep, knowing that Peter would need it one day – if not before, then after they reversed the snap.

But today, he had to come back. Deep down he’d known it as soon as Tony had given him the BARF tech. So, instead of letting himself fall apart, he moved to start opening up the curtains. May always said that the natural light was a blessing, and that it made the apartment look bigger.

The light was fading quickly outside, so Peter quickly got to work and took a seat on the sofa. He was nearly finished aligning the tech on his hand when he remembered something.

May’s favourite sweater.

He knew that it was hanging in her closet, but could he bring himself to go into her room?

Yes, he decided. He wanted to feel as close as he could to her, as painful as it was. So carefully he crept into her bedroom, almost afraid to breath in fear of disturbing something. The wardrobe doors creaked as he swung them open, revealing the pale pink wool that brought a remorseful smile to his face. Desperately he grasped at it, eager to be out of the room.

Once again seated on the sofa, nestled up with the pink sweater, he made the final adjustments before setting the tech to play out the memory.

Suddenly, the room was lit up with the warm light of a Tuesday afternoon. Behind him he heard footsteps, and he turned around to see his aunt walking out from the kitchen, carrying two glasses and a bottle of wine.

“May,” Pete whispered.

“Hey honey,” May looked past him as she smiled sweetly – it was a smile that Peter hadn’t seen for a long time, not since…

Peter spun around to see the man that May was smiling at, sitting in the armchair across from him.

“Ben,” Peter’s voice cracked.

“Happy birthday,” she whispered as she gave her husband a soft kiss, sitting the glasses and the bottle down on the table. The tender moment was cut short as another person entered the room.

“Happy Birthday Ben!” A younger Peter chirped as he arrived home late from band practice. Pete remembered he hadn’t seen him that morning because Ben’s shift had run late the night before.

“Pete my boy, how was school?” Ben cracked a smile, opening up his arms to embrace his nephew.

Peter watched himself become enwrapped in his uncles arms, desperately craving for that feeling again.

May was pouring the drinks, and handed one to Ben before pointing to the kitchen. “There’s a soda for you in the fridge,” she winked, rolling her eyes as Young Pete dumped his bag by the sofa. Peter ignored the younger version of himself rustling through the fridge and flitted his gaze between May and Ben, unsure of who to watch. May was taking small sips of her wine as Ben stood, moving towards the record player and sifting through their vinyl collection.

“ _Fooled around and fell in love,_ ” Peter murmured with Ben as he declared what he had chosen, carefully sliding the record out of its cover and placing it on the player. May lit up as she heard the song begin to play, sitting down her wine as Ben moved back over to wrap her in his arms. Together they started doing their own version of a slow dance, the Parker version as Ben declared it. He had sworn it was the best way to woo a lady.

May let out a joyed sound of surprise as Ben tipped her back suddenly, a charming twinkle in his eye as he admired his wife.

Young Peter sat on the bench and watched on with his soda as Peter watched on from the couch. His uncle and aunt swayed together slowly, basked in the warm light that shone in through the window. May laughed softly and rested her head on Ben’s chest as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear, her dark eyes warm with a deep love.

It was a beautiful moment, and Peter couldn’t help but smile.

Young Peter behind him jumped down from the bench and headed for his room, apparently having better things to do than watch May and Ben slow dance in the living room. _Stupid boy._ The memory slowly faded in front of Peter, the song dying out just as the chorus began to start.

Suddenly, the room was quiet again, the warm light dissipating. Peter was alone in the empty apartment. He gripped the sweater a little tighter.

He hadn’t realised that he had been crying, but his sticky cheeks begged to differ.

The memory was of Ben’s birthday, nearly a year before he was murdered in the street. No one had known that it was to be his last at the time, but how could they have?

Pete brought the sweater up to his face, breathing in the sweet scent of May’s perfume. He wasn’t ever very good with girly stuff like perfumes, but he knew that it was something flowery. He found comfort in it regardless.

The silence was too loud he decided, so still gripping the sweater he walked over to the record player. Ben had always kept his vinyl filed alphabetically, so Peter went straight for the top half and flicked through the covers until he came across the _Boogie Nights #2_ cover. Ever so carefully he pulled out the record and placed it on the record player. It had been years since he’d used the thing, but Ben had made sure back then that he knew how to work one.

As he dropped the needle and the intro music began to flow through the apartment, Peter almost felt as if he could turn around and see May and Ben back in the living room, dancing again. As Elvin Bishop’s voice sang the first words, Pete turned around to face the lonely room, subconsciously drawing the sweater closer to his chest. With a sigh, he slowly walked back to the sofa, dragging a blanket up and over his shoulders as he laid down.

The gentle words of _Fooled Around and Fell in Love_ helped to ease his pain, but not enough to stop the slow trickle of tears that made their way down Peter’s cheeks. He stayed there, utterly exhausted under the blanket with May’s pink sweater clutched close to his chest. He let the words of the song lull him to sleep, all the while imagining May and Ben in front of him in the living room again, alive and in love.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> oof I make myself cry sometimes


End file.
